


Trapped

by SecondToTheRight



Series: Overwatch Speed Prompts [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 14:04:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7535689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondToTheRight/pseuds/SecondToTheRight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tracer is forced to stay in place. Unbeknownst to her, a spider is watching.</p><p>A spiritual sequel to A World Without Heroes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Tracer trapped behind enemy(omnic?) lines with a critically injured Widowmaker.
> 
> I know it isn't shippy, but I saw an opportunity to tie this to A World Without Heroes. I cheated a little because I had to start and stop throughout the day.
> 
> Written in 120 minutes (estimate).

“ _ Tracer… Tracer, status! _ ” 

That was the first thing she heard after the ringing stopped. There was nothing quite like waking up to the soothing, gruff sounds of an aggravated Soldier screaming in her earpiece. Somethings never change, no matter how hard Commander Morrison tried.

“Peachy,” Tracer groaned as she slowly got to her feet, checking to see if any bones was broken. Once she stood on both feet, favoring neither, she began brushing the dust of her hair. 

“ _ Well, kid, you sure know how to get yourself in a spot _ ,” Morrison chuckled. “ _ They have you surrounded, but the rubble from the blast should keep you protected. We’ll get you out once they’re dealt with _ .” 

“How ‘bout you secure that objective while I use a pulse bomb to get out of here?”

“ _ Negative! The building will cave in on you. _ ”

Another, more relaxed voice, crackled in her ear.

“ _ I know it ain’t your style but just stay still for once, darling. We’ll get’cha outta there soon enough _ .”

“Fine,” Tracer muttered back, shoulders sagging. 

Now what?

A sudden movement to her left forced Tracer back into her fighting stance, guns out and ready as she blinked as far as she could away. The sound of steps over gravel helped her aim in the darkness.

“ _ Tiens, tiens _ . Looks like I finally caught you,  _ chérie _ .”

Tracer’s stomach dropped, hairs rising as Widowmaker’s deceptively silky voice echoed throughout the dark, half destroyed room of Volskaya Industries. 

Fan-bloody-tastic.

“You sure about that, love? Maybe I caught you?” Tracer asked, hoping Widowmaker wouldn’t catch on to her growing fear. 

Widowmaker’s low, demeaning laugh seemed to come from the darkness itself, Tracer’s chronal accelerator only illuminating what was a few feet away. 

“Is that so?” Widowmaker replied. 

Tracer could feel Widowmaker’s eyes rake over her, the situation finally setting in. She couldn’t contact anyone, make any sudden movement. Not without Widowmaker knowing. The light coming from the anchor on her chest would give her away. She was at a disadvantage and Widowmaker knew it. She tried to swallow the incoming panic. This was not a fight she could win. One shot and she was finished. She only had one option at her disposal. 

“Sure. Don’t know how you’ll fare against the entire team once they get here.”

Stall.

“ _ If  _ they get here,” Widowmaker corrected. 

“Bollocks. You and I both know those mercs Talon sent you with can’t stop them.”

“True,” Widowmaker conceded. “They are rather useless. It’s why Talon sent me.”

Tracer laughed at that.

“Much good you're doing. You’re just as trapped as I am.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong,  _ chérie _ .” Tracer could almost hear Widowmaker smile, the darkness making her more ominous than ever.

“What d’ya mean by that?” Her voice dropped its pretense of calm.

“They’ll come for you. Job done, guard down. Congratulating themselves on a swift victory, won’t even notice your bomb until it's too late.”

Widowmaker painted the nightmare with ease, each word punching Tracer in the gut. She would probably earn a bullet to the head before she even opened her line of communication with the others. Her grip tightened around her pistols, her anger swelling.

Widowmaker truly was a monster and before she died, Tracer was going to make sure she knew it. 

“Talon must be real nice to ya if killing Gerard was worth it, Amélie. He never deserved you.”

She blinked forward and fired, praying her only shot would hit its target. 

The signature bang of Widowmaker’s rifle rang through the room.

The bullet didn’t even graze her. 

That’s when Tracer knew something was off. Widowmaker wouldn’t miss at such a distance. Did she land her shots? No. Widowmaker would have made some noise if she had. Maybe it was because there was less distance between them. Maybe it was because Tracer’s heartbeat had calmed down. Whatever the reason, she finally heard it. 

Short spurts of breath, hitching at irregular beats. 

She took a step toward the sound, then another.

“Don’t.” 

Widowmaker’s voice was closer now, unmistakably out of breath. Weaker. It always had been, Tracer realized. She just hadn’t been paying attention. The sound of a rifle scraping the floor had Tracer blinking left. Another shot, another miss.

One more blink and she found her on the floor, a cracked steel pipe jammed through her abdomen. Any color left on Widowmaker’s face had been drained, her skin even more striking against the dark pool of blood underneath her. She could barely hold her rifle, let alone keep her aim steady.

Tracer didn’t even think.

She blinked to Widowmaker’s side, taking the rifle away before reaching for her earpiece.

“I need an evac now! Mercy, I’ve got someone with a nasty injury that I need you to talk me through… Hello? Hello!” All she could was gunfire and static. She cursed under her breath before blinking toward the collapsed rubble, trying to find some exit, swearing loudly when she couldn’t. She tried the earpiece again.

“Commander! Mercy! Anyone!”

“It’s pointless,  _ chérie _ ,” Widowmaker said. “You might as well shoot me now.”

Tracer blinked to her side again, livid.

“ _ No. _ You don’t get to die, not after everything you’ve done.”

Widowmaker seemed surprised by her, laughing as she coughed up blood.

“And how will you stop it?” Her smile was bloody.

“I don’t know!” she yelled, her eyes prickling.

Tracer hated herself for crying. Widowmaker had betrayed them all, killed so many. She didn’t deserve her tears. But they still came. Memories of someone who was kind, whose smile made Lena Oxton’s ears burn, who loved so freely, followed soon after. What had happened to her? How could it all have been a lie?

“Why d’ya do it, Amélie?” Tracer asked.

She searched for the warmth she missed, for answers to questions that haunted her. She didn’t find any. Tracer leaned back and wiped her eyes. Widowmaker’s breaths were growing more shallow, it was only a matter of time.

“You didn’t come,” Widowmaker said.

Tracer was so surprised, she almost didn’t catch what Widowmaker said next.

“She begged you to come and you didn’t.”

The rubble began to shake, familiar voices breaking through the silence. They were calling out to her. But Tracer remained still, confused. When light broke through, an opening clear, it almost blinded her. In that brief moment, Widowmaker launched her grappling hook to the ceiling, screaming as she pulled herself off of the pole. She didn’t pause, unleashing a venom mine outside. Tracer, for once too slow to react, could only watch as she disappeared into the cloud of purple gas. 

_ You didn’t come _ .

What did she mean by that?

_ She begged you to come and you didn’t _ . 

Tracer was terrified to find out.


End file.
